Keep it Together
by CaptainEmo
Summary: UPDATED. Ramona moves to Newport the week after Thanksgiving and quickly becomes friends with Anna. What will happen if she finds out the boy she's befriended is the same one who broke Anna's heart?
1. Ramona

_DISCLAIMER: I sadly do not own any O.C.-related stuff, except the poster they sell at Wal-Mart. The only thing I claim ownership of is the character of Ramona. I don't even own the chapter titles, as they are titles of Guster songs._

** CHAPTER 1: Ramona**

Ramona Devreaux walked into the room, jaw dropping. It was huge. Much, MUCH larger than  
  
her room at home, that was for sure. At her parents' she had had a room approximately the  
  
size of the average prison cell, and even at her cousin's her room had been maximum 20x20.   
  
This room, in Newport Beach, California, was at least twice that size. If you put together  
  
three rooms at Doubletree they would probably be equal.  
  
One of the drawbacks of her new gargantuan room was that it was pink. Ramona didn't  
  
mind pink, if it was bright, but this was cutesy, Care-Bear, Pepto-Bismol pink. That would  
  
need to be redone. Aquamarine, maybe, or red. Red might be too strong of a color for a  
  
bedroom, but.... okay, definitely not red. Maybe purple. Obviously not lilac, as lilac was  
  
almost as bad as pink. If it was going to be purple, it would be bright purple. Or bright green  
  
would be nice, she thought, shifting her stance. She sighed. Clearly this wouldn't be decided  
  
today. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
The first day of school. Ramona tugged on the bright blue tank she was wearing. She was  
  
tempted to wear her Dandy Warhols tee, or the green Guster one with the llama, but decided  
  
against it. The first day she should wear something neutral... it was bad enough she had that  
  
magenta streak in her hair. Wait with the indie shirts until she got the feel of this place.   
  
From what she'd seen so far, it was a strictly Abercrombie community. That is, when it  
  
wasn't designer.  
  
Back in Boston, the Abercrombie obsession had been as strong, but at least it hadn't  
  
brainwashed everyone. The majority of her school had been the typical preppy beautiful  
  
people; you also had the Goths off to the sideline, the beautiful anti-preps, the drama club,  
  
and her. Her and her friends - who weren't exactly popular, but weren't dragged-through-  
  
the-dirt nerds. They were geeks, but not teased mercilessly. For the most part, they flew  
  
under the radar.   
  
Ramona grabbed her backpack and walked out the door. _Play it cool the first day.   
  
Then you might have the feel of it. It can't possibly be all Jocks and Co._ Ramona and jocks  
  
was not a good combination. It was bad enough that she was starting the week after  
  
Thanksgiving.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Harbor at lunchtime was crowded and noisy. Ramona smiled to herself. _Some things never  
  
change._ Her worries had been confirmed. Prada, Abercrombie, Jimmy Choos, and Badgley  
  
Mischka ran rampant. The girls all seemed to be dressed on the scant side, with perfect hair  
  
and makeup. The boys lumbered and appeared to have a uniform: jeans, nondescript shirt,  
  
model hair.   
  
She hastily grabbed a seat at a nearby table, focusing her eyes on her food and away  
  
from the glaring sun. (They ate outside - _outside_! In _November_!) Pulling a book out of her  
  
bag, she began to read. There was no one to sit with her today.  
  
Anna Stern walked out into the sunshine, contemplating what to do. Normally she would be  
  
sitting with Seth and Ryan, but after Thanksgiving.... Well, she was pissed. Seth could have  
  
Summer if he wanted. She didn't give a damn. And apparently, judging by their conversation  
  
in the bathroom, Summer didn't either. Summer wasn't a bad person, just shallow. Oddly  
  
enough, they were slowly becoming friends. But Summer didn't have the same lunch.   
  
Scanning the courtyard, Anna noticed a girl sitting by herself, reading a book. Her  
  
head was tilted downwards, a curtain of wavy black hair flopping over her face. A chunk of  
  
magenta broke up the waves. She looked new.   
  
A shadow fell across the pages of _The Great Gatsby_. Ramona looked up. A blond girl  
  
with extremely long earrings was grinning at her. "Hi," she said. "I'm Anna. Are you new?"  
  
"Oh, uh - is this your table? I'm sorry," she spoke, collecting her stuff.  
  
"Oh, no!" Anna laughed. "I was wondering if I can sit here. You're in my math class,  
  
aren't you?"  
  
"Yeah." Ramona realized she still hadn't introduced herself. "I'm Ramona."  
  
"So, where are you from?" Anna asked, biting into her tuna melt.  
  
"Boston. It's my first day."  
  
"Don't worry. I just started here this year - I'm from Pittsburgh. It's not so hard."   
  
Briefly Anna's eyes flicked over to the table where Seth and Ryan were sitting.  
  
Ramona hadn't missed it. She glanced over. A very muscular blond guy - he was  
  
_jacked_, for God's sake - sat eating with a taller, gangly guy whose brown hair looked out of  
  
control. "You like one of them?" Ramona's jaw dropped, unable to believe that she had just  
  
asked that. She'd known Anna for what, all of two minutes? And already intruded into  
  
Anna's love life.  
  
Anna's eyebrows shot up. "Omigod, uh, I'm sorry," blurted Ramona. "It's, uh, none  
  
of my beeswax."   
  
_Beeswax_. Great. What was she, ten? _No wonder I'm a geek.  
  
_ Anna thought back to the day she had met the boys, when Ryan and Marissa waltzed.   
  
_"You like her, huh?" Ryan nodded. "Man, are you in trouble..."_   
  
She grinned. This girl, Ramona, was as blunt as she was! Maybe not purposefully,  
  
but... "It's okay," Anna said. "And yes, I do. Or did. I don't know."  
  
Ramona leaned forward involuntarily. "What happened?" Something told her Anna  
  
was the open-book type. She seemed fair, too. Ramona wouldn't have asked if she thought  
  
Anna would be judgmental.  
  
"Well, we're friends - or were - and I had a thing for him, but so did this other girl.   
  
He invited me over for Thanksgiving, but the other girl showed up too and apparently he  
  
kissed both of us." Anna briskly went back to her tuna. Ramona's jaw dropped again. What  
  
a loser! She looked back at the other table, furious. It had to be the blond one. Had to be.   
  
He had the look of a player. Living in Boston, Ramona had known a quite a few self-titled  
  
players. Yeah, it was definitely the blond guy.   
  
"What a jerk!" Ramona cried. "He doesn't deserve you, Anna. I've only known you  
  
for ten minutes and even _I_ can see it." Anna smiled. Meanwhile, a tall girl with the look of a  
  
supermodel sat down at the boys' table, next to blondie. Was that the other girl? Ramona's  
  
jaw clenched.  
  
"You know what, Anna? You need to forget this guy," Ramona declared. "Want to do  
  
something after school? I heard of this place - Jamba Juice, I think it's called - and it's  
  
supposed to be really great. I heard they have every kind of smoothie you could think of."  
  
Anna considered. Why not? Ramona seemed nice, and she doubted she would see  
  
Seth there... he was too busy playing video games. "Sure, meet me in the parking lot after  
  
school."  
  
The bell rang for the next class, and the two girls parted ways.


	2. Two at a Time

_Again, I own nothing. Oh, except the O.C. soundtrack - I bought it at Wal-Mart. But copyright-wise, I own nothing. I am simply bowing down to Josh Schwartz's infinite wisdom._

__

**CHAPTER 2: Two at a Time**

****   
  
Anna was sitting down, sipping her strawberry kiwi smoothie and Ramona was paying for her  
  
mango one when the bell above the door clanged.  
  
From her position at the table, Anna saw them first. Summer and Marissa, strolling  
  
into Jamba Juice.  
  
Ramona turned away from the cashier to see a short, tanned girl walk in with the girl  
  
from lunch. The girl with blondie. The Other Girl. She quickly went and sat next to Anna, as  
  
if to ward them off.  
  
The tanned one made a beeline right towards them, the other tagging behind. "Hey  
  
Anna!" Her eyes flicked to Ramona.  
  
"Hi, Summer," said Anna. "Marissa." The other - Marissa - smiled oddly. Summer's  
  
smile, however, was infectious. "This is Ramona," Anna added.  
  
"I'm new," said Ramona. "Boston." She wondered why Summer was being so... well,  
  
nice. If she was a friend of Marissa's - her best friend, judging by their mannerisms and the  
  
way they were talking as they came in...  
  
"Have you seen him?" Summer lowered her voice, taking on a conspiratorial tone, as  
  
if the workers at the counter were straining to hear her every word.  
  
"Yeah, at lunch," Anna said. "But I didn't talk to him."  
  
"Speaking of..." Summer rounded on Marissa. "You're not still sitting with him, are  
  
you?"  
  
Marissa sighed dramatically. Ramona had the sneaking suspicion that Marissa did this  
  
often. "Sum, I sit with Ryan. They're kind of a package deal. He _is_ going to be there too."  
  
Summer glared at her. "_Coop_! Do you want me to stab this straw in your _eye_?!" she  
  
hissed, yanking Anna's straw right out of her smoothie. It was then that she remembered the  
  
new girl, whose eyes had gone very round. "I suffer from rage blackouts," she explained  
  
sheepishly. Ramona pushed her chair a little further back.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
The next day at school, Ramona was still pondering the scene at Jamba Juice. It had been a  
  
very weird conversation. The bit with the straw was a little freaky. Ramona shook her head.   
  
Summer scared her just a minute bit. She may've been small physically, but Summer gave off  
  
an intimidating air.   
  
Lost in her thoughts, Ramona stared blankly at the ground as she walked, not really  
  
seeing anything at all. Suddenly a hand grabbed at the back of her shirt, pulling her  
  
backward and causing her to stumble.   
  
She knocked into someone behind her. Spinning around, she saw it was the tall guy  
  
from yesterday. The one whose hair resembled a Q-tip caught in a tornado. "I'm sorry," she  
  
apologized.   
  
The guy smiled (or was he smirking?). "It's okay. You were about to walk into a  
  
column." He gestured to the pillar in front of them. So, that's why someone had grabbed  
  
her. Well, perfect, now she felt stupid. Still, she couldn't keep a grin off her face.  
  
"Thanks," she replied, feeling idiotic. She leaned down to pick up a book she'd  
  
dropped, but he was already there.   
  
"_The Great Gatsby_?" he questioned.  
  
"Yeah, I saw it in the library here. I've been meaning to read it." She took the book  
  
and put it carefully in her bag.  
  
"Is it any good? I much prefer _Catcher in the Rye_ myself, considering American  
  
authors as a whole, but maybe I should switch it up a little with Fitzgerald? Granted, it's no  
  
Michael Chabon..." He bobbed his head around.  
  
"It's okay. The plot's really good, but he's like a diluted Charles Dickens the way he  
  
writes."  
  
"Oh ye gods."  
  
"I know!"  
  
He glanced at his watch, which, Ramona noticed, was adorned with Wolverine. It was  
  
almost time for the next bell. "You like the X-Men?" she cried.   
  
"If that's a good thing, then yes; if it's not, never."  
  
She laughed. "I like X-Men," she said. "But I'm sorry, Storm is so much better than  
  
Wolverine."  
  
He pretended to look offended. "Storm? Please. Wolverine has twelve-inch claws  
  
protruding out of his knuckles and it's logically impossible to beat that, you just can't -"  
  
The late bell rang; he swore under his breath. That gave them about two minutes to  
  
get to class. But hey, he'd only been late to class once in eleven years. He could afford to  
  
take the chance.  
  
A grin broke out on his face. "Name's Cohen - Seth Cohen."  
  
She laughed. Five minutes and she was liking him more and more. "Ramona  
  
Devreaux. Thanks for saving me from that deadly pillar." She pretended to curtsy.  
  
"Hey, didn't want to salt your game." He bowed in return and walked off.  
  
_Salt your game?_ What the hell did _that_ mean?


	3. Amsterdam

_As previously mentioned, I have nothing to my name. Unfortunately for me._

**CHAPTER 3: Amsterdam**  
  
Seth jogged off to English, thinking. He had to hurry or he was going to miss the beginning-  
  
of-class bell. And for that, Randolph would be pissed. Mr. Randolph was not the most  
  
easygoing teacher, especially when it came to punctuality. The teacher viewed it as a prime  
  
example of one's respect of others. He could be a real hardass when he felt like it. Why did  
  
Seth have to prolong the conversation? _Why_?  
  
_ Because it's rude not to introduce yourself,_ Seth thought to himself. _That's why._   
  
He'd noticed her yesterday - she was in his French class, now that he thought about it.   
  
_Devreaux. Duh._ She was kind of cute, in an unconventional type of way. He dug the  
  
magenta. And with her Dandy Warhols tee and talk of X-Men, she kinda reminded him of  
  
Anna.  
  
_Anna._ "Stop it," Seth whispered to himself. How could he be thinking of yet _another  
_  
girl when he had apologies to make to Anna and Summer? He had enough women problems as  
  
it was. The apology had to be done soon. Today. The three of them had the same study  
  
hall... he hoped it would be enough. As if he had any idea of what to say.  
  
Seth placed a hand on the doorknob and pulled, willing the door to remain silent. It  
  
wasn't.  
  
"Seth Cohen," boomed the teacher.  
  
Damn.  
  
"Mr. Cohen, how kind of you to join us this afternoon," continued Randolph. "Have a  
  
seat and see me after class."  
  
"Ooooooooooh," uttered the class in unison, as though they were kindergartners.   
  
Randolph turned his attention to the board. "Now, back to gerunds..."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Seth slowly advanced, dreading the worst. The last time he'd been late was Randolph's class,  
  
too, and detention wasn't fun. For the sixth time that hour, Seth wondered why in the world  
  
he'd felt etiquette was more important than English.  
  
"Mr. Cohen, this the second time you have been late to my class," began the portly  
  
middle-aged man, adjusting his burgundy tie. "You know my views on tardiness. I highly  
  
doubt you have a good excuse - unless your grandfather's house was set on fire, with your  
  
brother inside, would I excuse you from the lesson. And don't tell me that happened," he  
  
added, looking up from his tie and casting a steely glare at Seth (whose mouth hung open, as  
  
if to say that exact thing), "because I know you're lying. Now, what is your excuse?"  
  
Seth closed his mouth. "Nothing," he muttered.  
  
"What was that?" Randolph craned his neck. A flare of anger flushed Seth's face; it  
  
was obvious the man had heard him perfectly fine.   
  
"_Nothing._"  
  
The teacher smirked. "Very well, then. For your disrespect you will serve a detention  
  
after school, like last time." Seth began to relax. "But since this is your second offense,"  
  
added the teacher crisply, "you will also serve detention today during your study hall. What  
  
period do you have it?"  
  
"Seventh," mumbled Seth angrily. _He just had to make it worse, didn't he?_ The  
  
teacher saw the look of minor contempt on his student's face and grinned. Students didn't  
  
have any discipline nowadays. Parents just let their kids run around, too busy with money  
  
and parties to pay attention. It was up to the teachers to do that, and that was exactly what  
  
he did.  
  
"See you seventh period," he smiled.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Seth met Ryan in the parking lot at the end of the day, to explain why he wouldn't need a  
  
ride. Ryan noticed right away that Seth was not in a good mood. The expression on his face  
  
reminded him of the sky before a thunderstorm.  
  
"Hey man, what's wrong?" Ryan asked concernedly.  
  
Seth bobbed his head unhappily. "I was late again to English, so Randolph's given me  
  
detention. Personally I'd rather be in Tahiti right now. Or, you know, if that's not possible,  
  
maybe Amsterdam. Amsterdam wouldn't be terrible. I hear it's nice there."  
  
Ryan brushed off the Amsterdam comment. He was used to Seth's rambling. "Again?   
  
Why?"  
  
"Oh, no reason really. I met this girl..." His voice trailed off, checking his watch.   
  
"Got to go. If I'm late for detention..." He saluted and left.  
  
Another girl? For a self-admitted geek, Seth Cohen was snaring a lot of women, Ryan  
  
mused. More than even he had lately. _Not that I want any others, with Marissa._ Suddenly  
  
he remembered Seth's explanation of what had transpired last week at Thanksgiving. A third  
  
girl was not a good thing at this point in time. Seth was already having enough trouble with  
  
two.  
  
"Hey," whispered a voice in his ear. Turning around, he kissed Marissa and the couple  
  
hopped into her SUV to go home.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Ramona was sitting on her bed making a list of design concepts for her room. So far, she had

Classic Stardust Intrigue (very girlie and reminiscent of The Secret Garden), European

Contemporary (abstract paintings and various pieces of Swedish furniture in primary colors, that

sort of thing), Picture Reel (movie posters and blown-up photographs), and Graphic Imagery (a

comic theme not unlike Marvel Superhero Island at Universal). The latter was the most likely.

Either Graphic Imagery or Picture Reel. She could see it now - she could blow up images of

classic superheroes throughout the ages (maybe novel covers, too) and put them on the walls.

The walls would of course be painted either blue or red... red would work in this case. Spider-

Man would be there. Superman, Wolverine, Storm, Jean Grey, Professor Xavier. Cyclops. Not

Hellboy or Batman; she wasn't a big fan of Batman. Maybe the Ninja Turtles, too... nah. As

cool as those butt-kicking reptiles were, they weren't preserved forever in a graphic novel. They

were on Cartoon Network, that was all. But the X-Men would definitely be up there.  
  
At the thought of Wolverine and the gang Ramona remembered the boy from earlier. Seth

Cohen. He was cute. His hair was adorable, if not overwhelming. In fact, Seth Cohen could

have possibly more hair, volume-wise, than she did. But he was cute, definitely.  
  
He'd seemed nice that afternoon, she thought, but by now he must certainly think she was a

little freakish. At least idiotic. She was sure of it. No one who nearly walked into a pole would

come off as anything otherwise. She should just forget it - there was no chance. No chance that

Mr. Seth Cohen, with his insane hair and Wolverine watch, would ever be interested in her. Sighing, Ramona shook her head and went back to her list.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Ryan was waiting. Waiting, and playing Tekken 4. He knew that Seth would be coming in from

detention any minute and he planned to have a talk with him. Or, you might say if you were

overly dramatic, stage an intervention. Seth didn't need another complication - things were

complicated enough in his love life. Either girl alone was hard enough to handle, but _both at the _

_same time_... Ryan marveled how Seth could manage it.   
  
Ryan knew that this normally wouldn't be his business, but somehow since he'd moved

there everything had become everyone else's business. Maybe it was something in the Newport

water, but just living life was convoluted and tangled with everyone else's problems. For

example, Seth's hormones, suppressed for so many years, couldn't stop themselves from going

mad on Summer and Anna last week and because of this, Ryan's relationship with Marissa was

slightly strained. For the most part they got on fine, but if either of them hovered near the topic

of Seth or Summer... Being Summer's best friend, Marissa was inclined to blame Seth and view

him as an assholian pig. Being Seth's best friend, Ryan was inclined to defend him, much to

Marissa's discontent. Now Seth's problems were his problems, and he wasn't going to let his

problems grow any bigger.  
  
Seth walked by the room, stopped, and rewound his steps. "Hey," he said, sounding

vaguely surprised. Ryan nodded a greeting, not taking his eyes from the screen.   
  
"How'd you get home?"  
  
Seth held up his board. "Skateboard. If I had a car that wouldn't have happened, but

seeing as I don't, because Mom won't share the wealth, it did. But hey. My uncoordinated, not-

a-team-player bod needs the exercise. Oh my God, I just said 'bod.' Way to speak like it's

1987, Cohen." Pause. To take a breath, Ryan imagined. "Oh my God, I just sounded like

_Summer_! I really need some exercise. Some manly-man exercise, like weight lifting."  
  
Ryan put down the controller and shifted to face his brother. It didn't matter, his character

had just died anyway. "Why again did you have detention? Late to class?"  
  
"Yeah, again. I was on my way when I saw this girl about to walk into one of the building

columns, you know, and pulled her back, and then I couldn't not introduce myself after being her

knight in denim jeans. Her, her Clark Kent. It's awfully _rude_, Master Atwood, not to."  
  
"Sure." Sometimes when Seth got going, that was the only thing you could say. "So you

don't know her? She isn't going to make the whole Anna-Summer situation worse?"  
  
"Uh, hmm, no," Seth answered. "I just met her today. Her name's Ramona and she's new.

That's all I know." He glanced at the television. "Tekken, huh? No wonder you lost, Ryan, you

were pitting Nina against Kazuya. To win you have to be Jin or Christie. How _many times_

must we go _over_ this?" He settled down the floor, legs crossed pretzel-style, and took over the

controller with so much vigor Ryan half-expected him to stick his tongue out.


	4. Careful

_Sorry this took so long, but I've been really busy lately. As always, to my despair I own nothing. (Oh, and the QuickEdit is being uncooperative, so I pre-apologize for the paragraph structure.)_

**CHAPTER 4: Careful**

Seth was nervous. He had his apology ready, all wrapped up in somber blue paper and a 

ribbon. He had his speech written down and safely tucked in his pocket. And yet he remained

anxious.

Sitting at his study table, he eyed Anna and Summer across the room. They were

laughing and seemed to be having a spectacular time. Summer caught his eye for a brief moment,

still laughing. Was it just him, or was she now laughing harder? She was definitely louder... and

definitely laughing at him. _Maybe this wasn't even worth it,_ he thought, shifting his gaze to the

gifts in his shoulder bag. He should just forget it._ No._

Seth stood up (with an amazing amount of effort) and strode over to the girls. Well,

'strode' wasn't quite the word for it. _'Treaded slowly' would be more fitting._ Forcing bile

down his throat, he took the final step to the table.

Neither girl looked up. Apparently, they were quite interested in their textbooks. Seth

opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a noise not unlike that of a

strangled fish. Or anything strangled, really.

Despite this odd announcement, both girls continued to immerse themselves in

knowledge. Eventually Seth, realizing he couldn't simply stand there in silence forever, forced his

jaws open. "Um," he began. Four eyes met his, then were gone. "I'm sorry. These are for you."

He placed the gifts on the table. "Both of you." Pause. "I, uh, I wouldn't be surprised if you

threw them out. But at least open them, before you decide to chuck them, please?" His voice

was sounding far more earnest than he had intended. So much for the speech.

Seth turned and returned to his table, pretending to read. In reality, he was peeking

over the edge of his book. Anna and Summer were studying the gifts silently. Then, as if they

had planned it, they both picked up their gift and slid it into their respective bags.  
  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Anna opened the small flat package later that night. It was.... a CD. A CD? _A CD??_ A

blank CD.

Opening the jewel case, she noticed writing on the disc. Seth's block lettering in

purple Sharpie. _"For Anna: A Sincere Apology from Seth Cohen."_ Below was the instruction

to be put in the computer.

The CD-ROM drive slid open and Anna placed the disc in, closing the drive with the

hit of a button. Immediately a window popped up on the computer screen - Windows Media

Player. Seth's face appeared onscreen, looking serious. He began to speak; apparently he had

taped himself in his bedroom apologizing.

"I'm sorry," he spoke, a speech bubble surfacing next to his mouth and showing the

words as they were said, comic-style. "I'm a terrible person for doing what I did, and I don't

deserve to be forgiven. I tricked both you and Summer. I don't deserve kisses from either of

you. From now on, I promise to try and keep my mouth as far away from you as physically

possible. My lips will never touch either of you again if that is what you wish." Anna was smiling

now. Typical Seth; he couldn't even apologize without cracking a joke. "And, believe me, I will

even keep my lips away from Captain Oats. Never again, Anna. Never again will I besmirch his

- or your - good name. I promise you that." The screen went black.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Summer strode up to Seth the next day, waving around an all-too-familiar jewel case. "Very

cute, Cohen." Seth turned around to face Summer, unsure as always as to her meaning. _No_

_hello, nothing._ Just a 'very cute, Cohen.' Was that a good thing? He tugged at his lapel,

suddenly feeling claustrophobic.

"Hey," he replied, voice rising squeakily. Summer was looking

particularly tough today. She grinned knowingly. Summer hit him on the arm. "I wanted to say I

accept your apology."

"Ow," he responded, rubbing his arm defensively.

"Well, that's what you get! But I accept," she added, softer, taking a

step closer. Their eyes were now centimeters away, far too close for Seth's liking. Anna's voice

came from behind him. "Hey, I - actually, I'm gonna go."

Seth spun around. "Anna, wait. What's up?" he asked, attempting to appear casual.

"I accept your apology. Hi Summer." Clearly Anna didn't want to disrupt anything, turning

to leave.

"Anna. Stay. I have something else to say to you guys. Or, girls. Both of you."

The two girls looked at Seth intently. "Okay. Here goes." Bobbing his head, he scratched the

back of his neck. "Okay.

"Both of you are wonderful, amazing people, and I don't want to hurt either of you.

But I would like to continue to hang out, because you're both so great. So I think that the three

of us should just be friends. Maybe? Is that cool?" His eyes darted back and forth nervously.

Anna nodded.

"Yeah, cool." _That's not cool!_ her mind cried out. _It's fine,_ Anna told her brain.

_I'd rather be just friends with Seth than not know him at all._

"Sure, Cohen," threw in a brazen Summer. _Stupid Cohen. Has to always come up _

_with a reasonable, safe answer, doesn't he? Does he always have to think with his brain _

_and not his heart?_ Summer's brain pointed out that was a cliché. _I don't care,_ she mentally

retorted.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"Silence," Mademoiselle Foncé called. No response. _"FERMEZ VOTRE BOUCHE!"_

That shut them up quick. "Today we are going to split into _paires_," she began, satisfied that the

class was watching fearfully. "_Vous et votre associ_ are going to work on pages 72-80 in _le _

_livre _until..." Pausing, she snuck a glance at the clock. 10:27. "Until about 11:00. If you finish

early, do whatever." She waved a hand unconcernedly. "Now, to assign your partners...."

Three minutes later Seth plopped in the seat behind Ramona. "Hey," he smiled.

Turning to face him, she grinned back.

"Hi. How are things?"

"Good. How are things with you? How are you faring with all the pillars around

campus?"

"Shut up. Still think Wolverine is better than Storm?"

"The man has foot-long claws! Of course he is!"

"Shouldn't you be working?" The icy tone of Mademoiselle rang shrilly behind them.

"Yes, madame," Seth answered smoothly, shifting to face the teacher and plastering

on a polite smile. "I was simply reacquainting myself with Ramona here." His smile was a brilliant

white. "Now we will officially begin working," he added, nodding resolutely.

Mademoiselle seemed to be wavering. Probably from the smile. "All right," she

spoke slowly. "But get to work."

Watching the teacher stride away, Seth grinned. "Wow," said Ramona, unduly

awed. "Impressive. Very Mr. Smooth."

"Yeah, I like to think of myself that way." _What a blatant stinking lie._

Ramona noticed Mademoiselle out of the corner of her eye. "She's watching us,"

she whispered. "I guess we'd better get to work."

"Yeah. So... page 72..."


	5. Keep it Together

_I own nothing, to my eternal disappointment._

**Chapter 5: Keep it Together**  
  
Swallowing a bite of her taco, Anna smiled inwardly. "Ramona, you remember that guy I was telling you about? The quote-unquote 'jerky loser'?"

Ramona's head shot up. Anna hadn't mentioned him since Jamba Juice. "Yeah?""He apologized yesterday.""Really? That's awesome!""But he also wants to be just friends," she added.Ramona's eyebrow raises. "Is that a good or bad thing?""Good. It definitely should be, anyway. The three of us - me, him, the other girl - being just friends is what we need. I'm sick of triangles." Anna smiled again."Yeah, well, I hate geometry too." It may not be the greatest joke in the world, but whatever."So what's up with you?" Anna took another bite."Not much. As usual. My life is completely and totally drama-free. But I am painting my room this weekend.""Need help?"Ramona looked at her, surprised. "Um, yeah, sure. Can you come Saturday? Maybe around eleven? We can't start any earlier than that because I'll still be sleeping."

Anna laughed. "Yeah, me too. Eleven's good."

"Okay, so my address is..."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Ramona yawned and took out her homework from the night before. This morning around midnight she'd remembered that she had never actually finished their French work. In reality, they'd _almost_ gotten to page 74. She'd spent a good half an hour working on the last seven pages, loyal dictionary at her side.

Mademoiselle Foncé, hearing the yawn, frowned at her new student. Ramona, catching this, straightened up. _Look wide-awake and eager for class to begin. Wide-awake and eager._ Mademoiselle, turning her attention to the class, cleared her throat. "_Bonjour_."Ramona slouched back a little. "I have _un surprise_ for _vous_, today," Mademoiselle began, smiling smugly. She noted that the class looked wary. Smiling smugly had that effect, especially coming from her. The smile widened."_Classe_, we are starting a new... _PROJET_!" Several students groaned, rolling their eyes. "Afraid of what this may mean?" Pause. "Well, you should be."Oh no. Ohhh, no."This will be _un projet_ in _paires_. The _mêmes paires_ as yesterday. You and your partner are to write a four-to-five-page report about some aspect of France. For example, traditions or customs, Paris, Nice, the marketplace, music, movies, _et cetera_." Well, that wasn't so terrible. "The paper must have a rough draft, a second draft, and a final draft.

"Also you must put together an _impressionant_, clear and educational visual presentation to teach the class about your subject. And this is all due in two weeks. _Deux semaines_ from today - Friday after next."

Ramona's jaw dropped a few inches. Was this the typical Harbor project? This was _crazy_! Totally insane. This was the type of project that she would be assigned as a _final_ at her old school. Wow.Seth was loping towards her. Why was Seth coming over? Oh, right. The same partners. She'd been focusing so much on the project itself that her brain hadn't registered.Blinking, she forced herself to look awake. "Hey.""Tired? Late night doing who knows what?" Seth tried waggling his eyebrows, Jack Black-style. _Well, that worked.___   
  
"Oh yeah. You know, things to do, Craig Kilborn to watch."He grinned. "No _Daily Show_, but Kilborn's not bad. There may be hope for you yet." Pause. "Are you busy today? We could work on the project after school. My place," he added, winking cheesily. Ramona stifled a snort. _Don't snort. Do not ever snort in public.__   
  
_"Okay.""Ridonkulous. Meet me by the columns-" his eyes flickered in amusement "-by the English wing. You know. _The_ column."Ramona gave a thumbs up.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Seth, leaning against a pillar, was wondering just what he was doing. _Waiting for my partner is what I'm doing_, he told himself. _Is inviting another girl over such a good idea, considering recent events?_ his brain questioned.

Ramona waved. Seth lifted up an arm distractedly. _It's fine. We're paired up for a project; it's not like I'm going to hit on her. _

_Are you sure?_

_   
  
_The thought startled Seth. _What? What do you mean, am I sure? Of course I am. I'm taking a break from women. My relationship with women is staying on a purely-friends basis.__   
  
_Seth opened his eyes to find Ramona standing in front of him. "Hi," he said, surprised."What's with your eyes closed?" A smile spread across her face. "_Tired_?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Seth shut the bedroom door and smiled nervously. It seemed he was always nervous lately. Girls had that effect on him. The only time he hadn't been nervous recently was in detention with Randolph, and that was because he was pissed.

"You like indie rock?" Ramona was studying the posters splashed on the walls. "That's cool. Me too." She reconsidered that last statement. "Well, obviously," she added, gesturing to her Guster tee. Seth nodded."I'm more into the emo aspect of it, though. Death Cab, Bright Eyes, Ben Folds."

"Death Cab?"

Seth's head swiveled to face her. "Death Cab for Cutie? Only the absolute best band that no one's heard of? Oh God. You've never heard of them either. That's it, we're listening to _Transatlanticism_. And don't you dare insult Death Cab or I'll have to bring the smackdown.""Like you could," she threw back.Seth, fiddling with the CD player, looked wounded. "I'll have you know that underneath this scrawny geeky exterior, I'm packing some killer biceps.""Sure." The music began playing, a mellow mixture of drums and acoustic. _'So this is the New Year...'_

"So." Seth plopped into his computer chair, facing Ramona. "Any ideas for potential topics?"

"I was thinking holidays," she answered. "Like maybe Christmas?""Chrismukkah would be great!" he exclaimed."_Chrismukkah_?""Oh, right." He suddenly looked businesslike. "See, my darling mother is Queen of the Wasps, whereas my pops is a New York Jew in need of a good eyebrow wax. They weren't sure of how to handle it so I took the metaphorical reins. And therefore, the greatest holiday in the history of the world was born - Chrismukkah!""Christmas and Hanukkah," Ramona said, a sly expression on her face. "Excellent plan. So, what, you celebrate nine days of food and presents? Nice deal.""Exactamundo.""I feel disappointed that I'm not Jewish."

"Oh, there's room for everyone at the Chrismukkah hearth. Dip a toe in the Chrismukkah pool!" Ramona laughed.

"Somehow I think I might feel a mite poserish.""Poserism. HA. Look at Ryan. He's not Jewish, but he'll be celebrating Chrismukkah soon enough. I plan to convert him. And you, too. Everyone. I'll convert the world.""Oh, so that's your plan for world domination. I should've guessed.""Yes, exactly. What's yours? You seem like someone with a plan."She considered. "I don't really have one. Maybe finish my novel and move people's way of thinking with my books. I don't know. Maybe I won't.""I get it. I mean, we live, we die, right?" He shrugged.

Ramona stared at him. The conversation had become so serious all of a sudden. Far from his joking persona, Seth now seemed kind of morbid. "That's a real optimistic way of looking at things," she said dryly. She had a vision of herself trying to stay afloat in the Atlantic, like Rose at the end of _Titanic_.

"It is if you're religious," he replied.She blinked, completely thrown. She knew he was Jewish - obviously, his name was Cohen - but hadn't realized he was so a part of it. _God, I hope I didn't offend him about Chrismukkah. Although, he didn't seem it. But still._ He was still waiting for a response. "I guess," she answered. "If you're religious, then death is just another life, right?""Right." There was an awkward silence. _Oh, great. Why did I have to open my stupid mouth?_ Tousling his hair, he tried to think of something to say."Who's winning now, me or my hair?" he managed finally.She grinned; back to normal. "Unfortunately, not you.""Damn," he swore, sighing melodramatically. "I never win."Suddenly her lips were on his. _What am I doing?_ Ramona screamed at herself. Good question. What _was_ she doing, kissing some guy she'd known for a week? But apparently, it wasn't terrible, because he began to reciprocate. _Well, now I know I'm not completely talentless in the boy department._ Her thoughts evaporated, focusing solely on the moment. This was a good decision after all.Seth pulled away, looking shamefaced. "I - I can't," he said quietly. "I'm sorry."Ramona forced an oh-no-big-deal-don't-worry-about-it smile. "No prob. It's okay. We should probably get working on the project anyway, since I have to be home by six." As Seth turned towards the computer screen, though, she couldn't help noticing his flushed cheeks. She figured they were about as red as her own.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Anna waited outside the house patiently. _Maybe I should try the doorbell again_, she thought, reaching for it.

The door opened, a messy-haired and pajama'ed Ramona standing in the doorway. "Hi. Come on in." Anna stepped inside as Ramona shut the door. "I figured I'd leave my pjs on, since we're painting," she explained.Anna held up a plastic supermarket bag. "Clothes for after," she smiled. Anna, in a plain oversized T-shirt and holey jeans, looked far different from her normal self. It was weird. She was used to seeing Anna in full makeup and edgy wardrobe, a colorful punkish pixie. Now she just looked ordinary."Well, this is my room," Ramona said, pushing open the door. Anna placed the plastic bag just outside the entrance, to keep it paint-free, and marched in. The room was a good size. Not compared to some, but it was close.

"Huge, right?" Ramona asked.

"Believe it or not, this is just average for an Newport room," Anna replied, turning to face her.Her eyebrows shot up. "You're kidding.""So it's just you and your cousin here?" Lucky."Yeah. My parents are kind of MIA, like I said." Ramona tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. She'd told Anna she was an army brat, and that her parents had decided to let her stay with Mayne instead of constantly moving. It was the line she always used. "So, should two gallons be enough? I don't know much about painting.""Enough? Uh, you might have too much," Anna said, looking bemused. "Two gallons.... I can't believe you."They cracked open the paint jars and began to cover the white walls a bright cerulean blue, getting stained in the process. After two hours and half the room was done, Ramona had blue splotches in her hair, on her face, and right in the middle of her tank top. Anna wasn't much better.

"So guess what?" Ramona prompted, sliding a fresh pad onto the roller.

"What? Wait, you were bitten by a radioactive spider yesterday when sweeping the kitchen and now you have superpowers. Am I right?"She made a face. "Sadly, no. But I did get assigned a huge French project," she added, pretending to sniffle."Really? How very fun." Anna rolled her eyes."I know.... But we have partners, and I'm paired with this really nice guy. So we were over his house yesterday hanging out and working on the project.""Huh." Anna was studying her intently."What?" She was blushing now. "_What_?"Anna grinned slyly. "The guy. You like him, huh? I can tell. You need to work to your acting skills, Ramona."Ramona gave up. "Damn you.""Well, tell me what happened.""Okay, um... you know..."The grin grew massively bigger. "You kissed, didn't you?"Ramona's face went from pink to crimson. "You did! I know these things, Ramona. You can't try to hide them. I'm just perceptive. Now, who is he? Maybe I know him."Her friend broke into a matching grin, the color fading from her cheeks. "He's tall, kinda lanky..." A giggle. "His hair's like - well, his hair's completely crazy, but it's so cute!"An image of Seth materialized in Anna's mind. _Oh no. God, no. Please let it not be Seth. It can't be Seth.__   
  
_Ramona sighed, adding, "His name's Seth Cohen - you know him?"For some odd reason, her own smile felt strained to Anna. "Yeah, actually I do. He's a great guy. That's great!" She watched Ramona's smile split wide as she felt a bubble pop in her chest. Slowly, she turned back towards the wall and hastily began to paint.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Seth closed his locker to see an abnormally stoic Anna. "Uh, hey," he said, scrunching his eyebrows. "What's up?"

Anna wasn't sure why she was there; after all, they were just friends now, weren't they? _No_, her brain replied. _You never were just friends, were you? Maybe at the Cotillion rehearsal you were. But since then you've been straddling the border between friends and more, and you're not going to be friends with benefits_. "Hey," she said. "Listen, uh..." Great. How was she supposed to put this? "We're friends, right?"Seth nodded, clearly confused of where this was heading. "Yeah, of course. Why?""Well, maybe I was wrong, but when you wanted all of us to just be friends..." Anna trailed off, embarrassed. What happened to her confident straightforward persona? Just when she needed it, it disappears. She looked up, straight into his eyes. "I thought you were going to lay off girls for a while."Seth's mouth opened and closed, fish-like. Like a fish on a hook. How did she know? How would she know? _Unless..._ no. That wasn't possible. _It's way too soap opera-ish for Ramona and Anna to be friends. Beyond the realm of possibility. No way._Anna was still there, waiting for a response, and yet he remained speechless. Resignedly, she turned from him and stepped away. "Anna," he called. The girl just kept walking, not hearing.  
"I thought we could be friends," he added quietly. "I promised I wouldn't kiss you ever again..." 


	6. What You Wish For

_Sorry for the ten-month lapse in updates. I had major writer's block and then I got extraordinarily busy. But here's the new chapter. Read and review, por favor! Also, this is AU and takes place after the firt-season Thanksgiving episode, so if you're confused you might want to recheck previous chapters. Sorry this chapter is so short, btw._

_DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but a DVD and several Adam Brody magazine clippings._

**

* * *

**

**CHAPTER 6: What You Wish For**

Anna was a little subdued when Ramona arrived with her macaroni. That was odd. Not to mention a bit worrying. "Hey, are you okay?" Ramona asked, concerned.

Anna glanced up from her Monday special, the tuna melt, and shrugged. "Eh."

"I know, Monday. But it could be worse, it could be Thursday."

Two heavily-lined eyes gave her a quizzical look. "What?"

"You know, _Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_. Douglas Adams. 'It must be Thursday. I could never get the hang of Thursdays.'" Anna tilted her head, thinking.

"Sorry, not a big sci-fi fan."

"Me neither, but it's good. You should read it." Anna nodded in response. "So what is it? General blahness, or something specific? The Turkey?" Ramona had adapted the habit of calling the Thanksgiving boy the Turkey—she thought it was funny. In actuality it was just corny, but, Anna figured, who cared? Everything corny in the world was invented by someone who thought it hysterical. At least she hadn't gone to the extreme of calling him Turkey Jerky.

"Surprise. What've we got for her, Johnny?" Anna smiled fakely.

"God, he's such a loser." Ramona narrowed her eyes at blondie, who was laughing with the supermodel girl—Marissa—as Seth ate his sandwich. Then she narrowed her eyes at the said sandwich-eater. How could Seth hang out with such a player? _How can he do that? He definitely knows Anna, they have all the same things in common. Honestly._ Then again, he was so sweet! _Forget about it,_ her brain reminded her, _he said he can't, so he can't. You need to respect that._

_But his hair is so cute_, she protested.

_Forget the hair! _her brain yelled. _Focus on the subject at hand!_

"I'm sorry, Anna," she apologized. "Seriously, the guy does not deserve you. And where is that stride-through-the-room, to-hell-with-it attitude? Am I gonna have to put up a missing poster? Advertise on a milk carton?"

Anna laughed. "No, not necessary." She stared, hard, at Seth's table. "To hell with it. With him." Ramona punched the air.

"_Solidarity_, sistah!" Pause. "Wow, I said 'sistah.' I am definitely too pale for that."

* * *

Seth sat on his bed, contemplating. This entire situation was a little too _General Hospital_ for him. He wasn't down with that; Spanish sudsers were more his style. Maybe if he had a cool handlebar mustache like Victor he could take control of it, but as it was he wasn't even going to take control of dinner. And all that involved was ordering food through a phone line.

"Seth!" A booming voice echoed up the stairs. Seth sighed and got up.

"What's shakin', Dad?"

Sandy Cohen stood at the bottom of the stairs, arms wide. His hair was slicker than Seth remembered—apparently the old man overdid it on the pomade that morning. "Nothing, son, nothing, except I've barely seen you since Thanksgiving. It's time we had dinner together, as a family." He clamped his arm around Seth's shoulder the second his son reached him.

"Okay, sounds great. Except, oh wait, the last time we did that Mom passed out, Ryan was practically killed in Chino, the Gruesome Twosome complained, and I screwed myself over."

"Ah, yes. The Fateful Thanksgiving of 2003. But that's one time, come on." Sandy steered him into the kitchen. "Your mom's on her way home from work, she'll be here any minute. Here, call a place. Your choice." The phone flew through the air and clattered on the counter. Shaking his head, Sandy gave Seth a I-love-you-but-that-was-ridiculous look.

"Hey, you of all people should know I can't catch things. Two father-enforced seasons of kiddie baseball ought to have taught you that."

"Anyway," Sandy continued, brushing aside the comment, "you'll never guess who I ran into today."

"The Dalai Lama. Weird Al. No, no, John Travolta."

"Funny. No, _Sam_!"

"Sam?" Was he supposed to know this Sam? Seth cocked an eyebrow.

"_Sam_! Joe's son!" Sandy gestured emphatically. Honestly, his son should know his own family. This just reaffirmed that they'd spent far too much time in Newport Beach. There was a whole _world_ outside this bubble, and his son was missing out on it!

"Wait..." The name registered vaguely. "Sam, as in Cousin Sam?"

"YES!" Finally. "I ran into him at the supermarket, can you believe it? I was getting bagels and saw him at the register! He's coming by for dinner."

"I didn't realize that when you said 'family,' you meant _family_," Seth said, surprised.

"Come on, can't you be excited about this? He's your cousin and you haven't seen him since you were seven!"

"Uh, because he lives in Boston," Seth pointed out.

"Boston?" They turned to see Ryan standing at the glass door, Marissa behind him. "The cousin from Boston is coming here?" He and Marissa exchanged a look; Marissa stifled a laugh. _What was that?_ Seth thought, and shrugged it off. Probably some weird couply thing he wouldn't know about.

"Exactly. You're welcome to stay too, Marissa, if you want to."

"It's tempting," said Marissa, adjusting her Chanel bag, "but I promised my dad we'd eat dinner together. Have fun though," she added, weaving her way through the kitchen. "Bye!"

"They'll be here in about an hour. Now call in some food," he said sternly.

"They? Sam isn't married, is he? Isn't he, like, 24?"

"Phone, now!"

"Okay, sheesh. Just natural curiosity."

"Well, you've heard the saying, son."

"If you mean the completely irrelevant cliché about a cat, then yes."

"Seth."

"Phone, right." Hastily he began dialing.

* * *

"We're going to your uncle's?" Ramona asked blankly. "Any relation to me, or no? Distant, long-lost relatives perhaps?"

The Volkswagen halted to a stop at the intersection. "Not long-lost. Long neglected, more like," said Sam, looking at his cousin. "And to answer your other question—no. Not technically. They're on my dad's side." The car roared off.

"Oh. Okay." Pause. "Is that why we came here specifically?"

Sam glanced at her, momentarily caught off guard. "I forgot you were so intelligent. Yeah, that was definitely part of it. He's my favorite uncle, like my second father."

"But... you said they've been long neglected..." There was a question in her voice.

"Yeah, long neglected, and there's a long story there too. Too long to explain on the way there," he added.

"Okay." Ramona sensed she shouldn't push it. Sam could be a secretive guy, and he could shut himself off sometimes, but he was nice enough to take her in and for that she could lay off. "Well, you must be psyched," she tried.

"You can't predict the future by the stars, but you can wish on them," he replied cryptically.

They zoomed off into the night.


End file.
